We Only Really Face Up To Ourselves

One Day You're Cut Off, At The Very Start You're Cut Off And Can't Go Back, The Language You Learn And The Whole Business Of Walking And All The Rest Is For The Sake Of The Single Thought, How To Get Back Again.

Instead Of Committing Suicide, People Go To Work.

I Really Only Write About Inner Landscapes And Most People Don't See Them, Because They See Practically Nothing Within, Because They Think That Because It's Inside, It's Dark, And So They Don't See Anything. I Don't Think I've Ever Yet, In Any Of My Books, Described A Landscape. There's Really Nothing Of The Kind In Any Of Them. I Only Ever Write Concepts. And So I'm Always Referring To "mountains" Or "a City" Or "streets." But As To How They Look: I've Never Produced A Description Of A Landscape. That's Never Even Interested Me.

We Must Allow Ourselves To Think, We Must Dare To Think, Even Though We Fail. It Is In The Nature Of Things That We Always Fail, Because We Suddenly Find It Impossible To Order Our Thoughts, Because The Process Of Thinking Requires Us To Consider Every Thought There Is, Every Possible Thought. Fundamentally We Have Always Failed, Like All The Others, Whoever They Were, Even The Greatest Minds. At Some Point, They Suddenly Failed And Their System Collapsed, As Is Proved By Their Writings, Which We Admire Because They Venture Farthest Into Failure. To Think Is To Fail, I Thought.

We Can Only Exist By Taking Our Minds Off The Fact That We Exist